


d'Escrime

by Odyle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His victory seemed to be won without effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	d'Escrime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[ **kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) 's 'bodily secretions' prompt. 

They did not speak. They barely went back to their marks before they began another bout.

The bouts ran into one another in John’s untrained eyes. He had watched Sherlock fence before. Always in a different place: a library with the stacks pushed apart to make room, a curry house at 2 am, and once on the roof of a bank. Trust in Sherlock to belong to the strangest fencing club in England. Tonight Sherlock had brought him to an empty warehouse. It smelled of fish, though they were nowhere near anything which would cause such a smell. As always, it was just the two of them and Sherlock’s opponent for the evening.

He watched Sherlock time and time again land a point then spring back before they were at it again. The lank of his limbs gave him an advantage as he thrust to score another point on his opponent, before retreating.

His victory seemed to be won without effort. John could read the tension building in the other fencer’s body even beneath his kit. When Sherlock scored without even stepping from his mark, his opponent fled the battle ground.

“They’re right about you,” he said as he tore off his helmet. “Not even sport for you. You simply toy with people.”

John turned to watch the man as he stormed out of the warehouse. He’d lasted longer than others who had faced Sherlock, though few had framed their loss so dramatically.

Sherlock calmly removed his helmet and went to put his épée away.

“That was different,” John said.

Sherlock’s hair was drenched with sweat. Locks of it hung heavy, curling indelicately at the nape of his neck. The collar of his jacket, just as wet, was plastered to his neck. It twisted with him as he turned to look back at John.

“He was overly emotional. No thought to his action. I could not bring myself to allow him a round.”

“You throw rounds?”

“Only when it makes things interesting.”

Sherlock tucked his epee away in its case.

John reached out and pulled apart the snaps that kept Sherlock’s collar in place. That got his attention. John worked his hand beneath the breast of Sherlock’s jacket, freeing each snap as he came to them. The lining of his jacket was damp and sweat from Sherlock’s shirt beneath it rubbed off on the tips of his fingers as he worked.

Sherlock regarded him placidly, his chest still rising and falling fast. John could still see the thoughts running through his head, though for this fleeting moment, it seemed all of his attention was trained on John.

John followed the strap on the jacket downward, cupping Sherlock with his hand as it curved between his legs. The swell of his cock through so many layers was rewarding. He could recall the weight of his in his palm. John gave it a sentimental squeeze before he moved back up Sherlock’s body to push the jacket off his shoulders. Sherlock obeyed, setting his shoulders back so the jacket slipped easily from his body, pooling around his feet.

John laid a kiss on Sherlock’s neck tasting the salt in his sweat.

“I can always rely on you to make things less boring,” Sherlock said as John continued his explorations.


End file.
